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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056682">you're breathtaking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0wlets/pseuds/r0wlets'>r0wlets</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>cresty family baja blast au [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Crestoria, Tales of Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Cutting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Underage Smoking, me making myself cry at 4am, the dumb cresty family au tag i'm using</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0wlets/pseuds/r0wlets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Misella was a juvenile delinquent who toed the line between life and death. Then one day at school, she met a boy who made her spill her curry and she began to question everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kanata Hjuger/Misella</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>cresty family baja blast au [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you're breathtaking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i was laying down about to take a nap thinking of what i wanted to write next, and then i thought of this. i took a great inspiration from one of my favorite manga series of all time, fruits basket, and of arisa uotani's backstory. i haven't really written anything this serious in a while, but i think this is gonna be one of my favorite tales fics i've written yet and i'm just getting choked up again ldlhkldhkldhklh so i hope i can pass that love onto y'all ok thanks lmao</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>breathtaking</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beauty was a rotten cesspool. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The city lights glittered from a distance. From far away, they looked as if they were butterflies dancing towards the sea, but in reality all they were were just lights. They lit up malls, markets, grocery stores, houses, hotels, karaoke bars, drug dens, brothels…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The streets where no one had homes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>None of that mattered to Misella. When she was barely old enough to walk, she believed in the lights dancing along the skyline, but that was long ago, when dreams and fantasies mattered. Nothing mattered now except the nightly grind and the sound of her motorcycle skidding along the highway. Her comrades offered numbers, but they meant little to her than a means to an end, older girls who cared about little more than sex and drugs. Although to be fair, they still had more on their minds than her, who only casually toed the line of survival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Life...why was it so precious anyway? You were born, and then you died. You were used, manipulated, abused, beaten, until God decided to finally throw you away and make new toys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the middle of the night, sometimes Misella liked to drive solo along the freeway and stop to enjoy a few moments of fresh air. Taking off her helmet, she brushed a few strands of long, pink hair from her face and pressed her feet against the railing, looking off at the sea. Her constant racing thoughts were momentarily alleviated by the midnight silence and the soothing ocean noises. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For someone who did the bare minimum to survive, she sure wanted to die a lot. There was a constant heaviness in her heart whenever she merely woke up in the morning, and she tried to run away from it with a multitude of distractions with little success. She wanted to feel nothing when she slept, when she ate, when she showered, when she felt hands fondle her developing breasts and when she felt them hit her, choke her, burn her, use and destroy her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lit up a cigarette and inhaled. The moonlight made the cuts up and down her arm look like dancing jewels instead of hideous reminders of what she was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If she ended it all tonight, she would’ve never experienced what was yet to come.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>__</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella didn’t go to school often. Book smarts weren’t really helpful alongside her street smarts, so she only went once in a while to keep the teachers from breathing down her neck. All she had to endure was one more year of school, and then she was free to do what she wanted. Her classmates didn’t really like it when she came to school either and glared at her with looks of disdain and fear. Not like she really cared about what they thought, anyway. How was she ever expected to get along with kids who grew up in real households?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She usually spent the afternoons on the roof, away from the mindless chatter and empty lectures. Today she was late in her escape. The toilet she had used was clogged, so half the morning she searched for a janitor to help her clean up the mess. Much to her dismay, by the time they were finished, it was close to actual lunch time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even worse, she bumped into a stupid boy who ruined her lunch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Curry spilled all over her skirt and down her leg. Before Misella could hurl a string of insults at him, the boy was already bent over like a ruler, screaming apologies at the top of his lungs. “I’m so sorryyyyyy!” he yelled at the top of his soft voice. “I knew I should be watching where I was going, but I wanted to be fast to help my teacher out and now I’m gonna miss him! I’m really dumb.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>really dumb,” Misella agreed matter-of-factly, glaring at the boy. She didn’t recognize him - not that she really paid attention to her classmates anyway, but he didn’t look like he was in her class. “What are you gonna do about my curry, boy? I have to use my own money to buy the ingredients and make it when I decide to come to this shit prison.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prison? Uh, it’s a school.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, are you really that stupid or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, guess I am,” Gentle laughter came from the boy, and Misella’s eyes briefly widened. He wasn’t the least scared of her. “I transferred in a couple of weeks ago and I still don’t know where anything is. Kanata Hjuger of Class 2-B.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata’s hand extended out to her. Misella ignored it. “Misella, Class 2-C. Don’t dodge my questions, dumbass. What are you gonna do about my curry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh, I can make you lunch tomorrow. My dad buys those really cute octopus wieners.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was obviously a bluff. They’d go their separate ways and then they would never see each other again. Misella had seen this situation play out countless times whenever someone upset her or another member of her gang. To survive in this school, they relied on fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something Kanata’s big, blue, dumb eyes that made her think twice, though. Maybe she was starting to get too soft. Crossing her arms, Misella allowed her curiosity for these </span>
  <em>
    <span>octopus wieners </span>
  </em>
  <span>to win her over just this once. “Fine. You better pack the meatiest bento I’ve ever eaten, Hjuger.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day the school was swimming with abuzz over the fact that Misella was in school two days in a row. By the time lunchtime swung around she was already sick of it, but luckily the Kanata boy made on his promise so she wouldn’t look like a complete idiot. As they walked up the stairs, Kanata was completely unfazed by the spectators’ tension. “Wow, Misella, you’re really popular here!” he commented. “Everybody’s been looking at you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella rolled her eyes. “You idiot. They’ve been looking at me because I have better things to do than go to school with idiots like you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wha- Dummy, anything’s a better waste of my time than being here! I got bills to pay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you, like, 13?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We live two different worlds, Hjuger.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata opened his mouth as if to say something else, but he kept quiet and laid down a cloth across the floor. Misella sat beside the setup and made herself comfortable, waiting for her free meal. If this boy served her a convenience store bento, she’d make sure to reclog the toilet with his dumb, soft face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So her expression morphed into one of shock as he laid out the goods. A perfectly laid out bento box, similar to one someone would see in an anime, with perfectly molded rice balls, fresh stalks of broccoli, and octopus-shaped wieners with smiley faces decorated on them. Misella gently plucked one of the wieners out of the box and examined it as a line of drool dripped from her face. “Cute…” she muttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Misella? You okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it! This had better taste as good as it looks.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She popped it in her mouth. The wiener did, indeed, taste as good as it looked. Her eyes impatiently followed Kanata’s hands as he continued setting lunch up. By the time he handed her a pair of chopsticks, he was oblivious to the ravenous look in her eyes. She’d savor this meal all week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They let the food do the talking as chopsticks scraped against metal. Kanata’s appetite rivaled their own, so she didn’t have to worry about him thinking her chewing noises were loud or unladylike. She didn’t have to worry about idle chatter, either; Kanata was just a transfer student, so he didn’t know her reputation to ask any annoying questions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then their chopsticks clashed trying to take the last octopus wiener. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A glint sparkled across Misella’s eyes as she watched the wiener bounce back and forth between their chopsticks in a stabbing war. Sure, she wasn’t a model lady, but she doubted Kanata knew much of how to treat a real lady the way he scraped his chopsticks against the corners. It was like he was a naive kid instead of a fellow classmate at school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And a naive kid meant she had the advantage. Her smirk curling into a grin, Misella went straight for the punch and stabbed Kanata’s hand instead. Yelping, Kanata’s hand retreated, and Misella was able to take her prize octo wiener. She could feel him staring at her with awe. “Wow, you really remind me of a princess, Misella!” he said, grinning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, the way you outsmarted me and the way you have long hair and the way you got that bright pink jacket instead of a standard school uniform.” Kanata cupped a hand over Misella’s ear, and the girl’s cheeks flushed at the audacity of this boy brazenly scooting up so close to her. “Hey, Misella, are you really royalty and is that why you miss so much school? I can keep a secret.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me today. I’ll keep making you bento til you tell me. It’s the least I can do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small smile formed on Misella’s lips, but not wanting to look Kanata in the eye, she stared up at the clouds. “Sure. Why not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t start going to school every day. Not at first. Either Kanata was teasing her or wanted to fool around with her, or he was really just that fucking dumb. Boys at this age were hard to figure out; either they thought of nothing but sex or nothing but doing dumb adventure shit with their friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like Misella was opposed to sleeping with Kanata, either. He wouldn’t be the first boy at school she fooled around with, and at least he was one of the cuter ones. Adorable, even, with that soft blond hair, those baby cheeks, and those blue eyes that seemed to stare straight into her soul. If she just looked away while they were doing it, she wouldn’t feel disgusted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Misella was thoroughly shocked when she decided to go to school for the hell of it a week later and found Kanata waiting for her by the gates that morning. She ignored him at first, not wanting to deal with a puppy that early before she could even get a smoke in, but he followed her, even waving at her. “Hey, Misella, good morning!” he greeted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She said nothing at first, but he wouldn’t stop following her, so her lips pursed when she changed into her school shoes and faced him at her locker. “What do you want, Hjuger?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen you in a week! I thought you transferred schools ‘cause….I found your secret and all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella rolled her eyes. “Where else would I go, dumbass? You better have packed a good lunch like you promised. Going to school this often makes my head hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, of course. Dad made hamburger steak today. I might be late to lunch today, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell are you gonna be late? Don’t waste my time, Hjuger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s just…” Kanata looked down, pressing his fingers together awkwardly. “We have gym between our classes today and I’m a really slow runner. I know I should get a little bit more in shape, but uh, you’ve shared lunch with me. I enjoy eating more than exerci- ow!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella grabbed him by the scalp and practically shoved him against the locker. Kanata let out a cry of pain as she suddenly let go, letting him his head against the locker doors. “Look, you, I enjoy lunch </span>
  <em>
    <span>far more </span>
  </em>
  <span>than you to fuck up and be late,” she hissed. “We’re gonna bust out early. You got a spare uniform?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When gym class rolled around a few hours later, the coaches’ faces were painted with astonishment and fear while they watched Misella, in her gym shirt and shorts, pull her long hair into a ponytail. After staring at each other miserably, one of the coaches finally bit the bullet and carefully approached Misella, pointing over to the girls’ side. “You know, Misella, you haven’t been here all year, but wouldn’t you feel more comfortable running with the girls?” he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If looks could kill, the coach would’ve dropped dead on sight. “No,” Misella snarled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The coach was wise to back off. Misella took her place next to Kanata and looked him up and down. It was true, he looked pretty weak. “Hey, Hjuger, this better be the best damn hamburger steak of our lives.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata’s ears perked up, and he grinned at her. “Oh, you bet. My dad’s a pretty amazing cook.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must be nice, having parents.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They began running. Truth be told, Misella wasn’t very athletic, either, and their pace slowed considerably by the time they reached the half kilometer. When Kanata stopped to catch his breath, he finally asked the annoying question. “You don’t got parents, Misella?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella shrugged. “Nope. They died a long time ago. Never knew them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, who do you live with then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really live with anyone. I got a guardian collecting checks, but I just live with anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re a long-lost princess? Wow, that’s really romantic kinda, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella’s eyes widened, and she gawked at the absolute stupidity of this boy. “You’re really keeping this up? I’m an </span>
  <em>
    <span>orphan</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How can I be a princess if I don’t know who my fucking parents were?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, I’ve watched crazier situations in dramas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your brain is filled with rocks, Hjuger. What good is school for me if it can’t save you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She resumed running. Kanata jogged behind her, placing his hands behind his head. “Well, I might not be the smartest, but I’m making lots of friends, and I think friends are half the school experience.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t know. If you haven’t figured it out, not a lot of people talk to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well….</span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>my friend, Misella.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he caught up to her, all she could do was slap him in the face. It disgusted her more when he bowed to her, and rage boiling within her, she yanked his scalp and just pulled him forward. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>get it confused, Hjuger,” she growled, venom seeping with every breath she took and every step they made. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not, </span>
  </em>
  <span>nor will I </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>be your friend. Just keep up your promise like every other dumbass I’ve met.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata kept quiet, but true to Misella’s word, they managed to finish their running only slightly after lunch time began. This time when they ate lunch, there was an obvious tension as they ate and Misella enjoyed her meal less than she did last week. The food tasted just as good as last week; however, she couldn’t truly enjoy her meal knowing she had snapped on an innocent boy, dumbass or not. The thought of genuine friendship was ludicrous to her. Why would anyone want to be friends with someone like her?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But when she looked at Kanata’s stupid face, it dawned on her that he probably genuinely thought of her as a friend,that poor soul. And so just before lunch ended, she begrudgingly bowed to him, grimacing. “I’m sorry.” she mumbled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy’s head cocked sideways, confused. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For </span>
  <em>
    <span>hitting </span>
  </em>
  <span>you earlier, dumbass!” Misella snapped, cheeks turning a bright red. “Don’t you pay attention to anything?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s okay. I just didn’t think you wanted to talk much, hehe.” Immediately Kanata was all sunshine and smiles again, and he finished  packing up his bento box back into his lunchbox. “Hopefully tomorrow we’ll enjoy lunch more, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? I’m not coming to school tomorrow. Are you crazy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awww, but I gotta keep guessing your royal secrets!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I keep telling you there’s no secret.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t fool me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that she began going to school twice a week. Then three times a week. Then one day she found herself going to school every day. She still didn’t attend class other than homeroom and gym, but she almost enjoyed being greeted by Kanata every morning. He really was like a little kid or a lost puppy, always greeting her with that big, dumb smile on his face. It was a sharp contrast to the violence and sleaziness grittiness she faced every night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes after Kanata left her when lunch was over, she almost...missed him. He nearly got them to start walking together after school, until she vehemently pointed out that there wasn’t really a home for her to go to. (“But I can walk you to wherever you’re staying! We can talk more,” he tried convincing her.) Maybe if she were born under different circumstances, she could have thought of him as her friend as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then one day she skipped school again, and that was the day she regretted skipping the most.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was already after school, and it was raining. Misella cursed under her breath as she tried to tuck her hair under her hoodie. No luck. There was just too much hair. She drove around the city, heading towards one of the gang hangouts on the opposite end of the area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shouldn’t have stopped when she saw Kanata’s form curled up half into a ball as several girls surrounded him, shoving him and pushing him around an alley. Before Misella could get off her motorcycle, the boy was already in a puddle of mud and the girls were laughing as they counted a wad of bills. She should’ve ignored him and laughed alongside her comrades.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But before Misella knew it, she blocked his body from the rest of them and faced the group, glaring up at them. “Leave him alone,” she growled. “He can’t do anything. He’s like a dog.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girls laughed at her. One of them sneered and placed a hand on Misella’s shoulder, lightly shoving her. “Bow-wow. We heard you’ve been going to school lately, Misella,” she jeered. “So you finally found a puppy that follows you around? How sweet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How precious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he makes me lunch every day,” Misella said, keeping her composure. “Fuck off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, why doesn’t he make meals for me?” one girl asked mockingly, grabbing him by the hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, little chef puppy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You hogging him or something, Misella? It’s not nice to be selfish.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fists flew, and Misella landed a few shots in one of the girls’ faces before she was shoved to the ground next to Kanata. Luckily she baited them into giving her the brunt of the punches and kicks, and soon she was a muddy mess, hair and clothes soaked with rain and dirt and mud and God knew what else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whore!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bitch!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think she’s too good for us!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella coughed up blood and laid in the puddle for a long while after they left, laughing. Blood dripped down the side of her head and face. She was getting too old to be a juvenile delinquent anyway. Her bones ached and ugly bruises were probably going to litter her pale skin for a while. Was she going to die?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. Because if God were merciful, she would’ve died a long time ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coughing, she turned over to her side and got the strength to sit up. Kanata was still dazed, but he was conscious enough to turn to his own side and cough up a bit of blood. There was a big old knot forming on his side, but otherwise he would be okay. “So, this is what it’s like being robbed, huh?” he joked. “Ow!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misella kicked him in the shins. “Don’t be so happy-go-lucky. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a lot worse off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohhh, is that so? Well, thank you, Misella! I knew you’d come to save me. That’s what friends are for, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so full of shit, Hjuger. I can’t save anyone. I can’t even save myself.” Misella hugged her knees to her face and she sighed, tracing her finger along the hem of her muddy skirt. “You just don’t deserve being beat up, is all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you do? Look at you, you look awful. Do we gotta go to the hospital?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I’ve been through worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood up and offered a hand. Kanata took it and stood up, wobbly. He hesitated as his other hand went to touch her cheek, but his resolve was steeled and his eyes held a fierce look of...Misella wasn’t sure what it was. Determination? Familiarity. But his touch and his voice were so gentle, she had to look down when he spoke to her. “You still look like a princess, you know. Even when we both look awful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut the fuck up. I keep telling you I’m not a princess, Hjuger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. But you’re beautiful, Misella.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wanted to say something nice in return. To thank him for the compliment, to cry, but all she could do was laugh and strike him back down to the ground. She continued to laugh as she pulled out a switchblade from her pockets and pointed it at his throat. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumb</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dumbass,” she said, choking her words through. “I’m not a princess or beautiful or sweet or any other nice words you can think of. I could kill you anytime, Hjuger. I could kill myself. I could kill you and then kill myself and be done with our lives because </span>
  <em>
    <span>life </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t beautiful. Why do you keep thinking otherwise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the knife sliced through her hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata uselessly stretched his arm to her as she continued slicing and slicing until long tufts of hair rained down around her and she was left with a bob cut and bloodied arms. “I hate you! </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hate you, Kanata, I HATE YOU!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rain began pouring down again, and blood mixed in with the rain and mud until Kanata limply pulled her into a hug, and then she kept punching and kicking him and screaming at him and hurling curses at him until they were both tired and half standing against the alley walls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But even after that, he wouldn’t let go, and finally she dragged him to her motorcycle, where his eyes widened and he pointed to the bike as he gawked. “Wow! Aren’t we a little too young to drive?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. Get on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kanata complied, and Misella settled into position, comforted by the soft hands around her waist. Putting the motorcycle into motion, they drove off into the city and soon headed off to the highway, where she could allow her head to clear a little. He was stupid, stupid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Life was stupid, and gross, and ugly, and out of everything in life, Kanata was the stupidest and grossest and ugly thing of all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But even if life wasn’t beautiful, Misella wouldn’t let him go. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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